


drunk on you

by stupidsexyseguin



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidsexyseguin/pseuds/stupidsexyseguin
Summary: drunk conor is adventurous conor- but no way is matt letting him convince him into wall sex again.





	drunk on you

“Conor, no” Matt pushes at Conor’s shoulders, but he knows he really isn’t going to make any difference. Drunk Conor is determined Conor is  _won’t-listen-to-reason_  Conor.

“Conor,  _yes_ ” he pushes closet into Matt’s space, nuzzling into his collar bone, fumbling hands finding their way to his hips with surprising accuracy.

“It’s not a good idea. Remember last time?” Adorable nuzzling turns to sloppy, drunk kisses to his neck and jaw line. Matt can feel himself slumping against the wall to allow his boyfriend better access, legs spreading open so that Conor can fit them together groin to chest. He’s so  _thick_ , and Matt can feel the strain on his thighs where they fight against the tightness of his jeans.

“Its the best fucking idea, Matty. The best.” Conor catches Matt’s lips in a kiss, tasting of cheap beer and siracha, and Matt must also be pretty drunk because he’s more turned on than disgusted. It probably helps that his own mouth probably tastes the same. He’s so caught up in the sensation of Conor’s lips against his own that he fails to register wandering hands until it’s too late and strong fingers grip his things and  _pull_ and-

Matt has to throw a hand back to grip at the wall to steady himself as his legs are yanked from under him and up around Conor’s waist. Conor’s giggling against his lips, hands encouraging Matt’s legs to wrap around him, as he  _grinds_ up against him with hot, slow pressure. 

Matt’s head thunks back against the wall and he whimpers, Conor follows him, lips sliding across his cheek, nipping at his jaw, sucking dirtily at the soft skin of his throat.

“C’mon, Matty. like this. It’ll be so good, babe.” one clever hand is sliding its way between them, targeting Matt’s belt buckle, fumbling to unlatch it. “Make it so good for you. Better than last time.” and that snaps him out of it.

“You dropped me on my ass!” and it’d fucking hurt. he’d bruised it so badly he’d had trouble sitting for three days. Jokes about being fucked so good you can’t sit are only tolerable when you were  _actually fucked_.

“Best ass.” another maddening grind up into Matt. God, he was so fucking  _hard_.

“Conor, Put me down.” he pushes gently against his boyfriend’s shoulders- he doesn’t want to push too hard in case he disrupts drunk connor’s balance too badly and sends them both crashing to the ground.

“Feel so good though Matty” Matt needs to pull out the big guns here. Before he ends up out for the next few games because drunk Conor wanted to be adventurous.

“Put me down and I’ll let you blow me in the shower?” He’s on his feet so fast he almost tumbles forward into Conor’s firm chest. Conor himself is grinning madly.

“ _Really?_ ” Matt always vetoes shower blowjobs- too much chance one of them will end up with a concussion and the other’s knees will be bruised beyond help from the tiles. 

“Yeah, really. I’m sitting on the bench though.” He’s refuses to get a concussion tonight. Even if he gets a good blowie out of it. They’ve still got half a season left to play.

“done.” Conor yanks him down for a last dirty kiss before pulling him in the direction of the en-suite. “Best Matty”


End file.
